Love Bites
by OutlawEris
Summary: Will believes he is in love with the Lady Marian, but he hates himself for it, cuz Robin is miserable and loves her too. Troubles mount - a new outlaw comes to camp, and she just causes more trouble. COMPLETE.
1. The Attraction of a Fiery Temper

(Note: I do not think Will is a selfish jerk. I love Will. He is one of my favorite characters. But I am also jealous, and how he feels is how I feel when I want something someone else I love or am friends with has. So these are his sentiments, and they are not true. They are simply the results of his frazzled nerves)  
  
I am not a selfish jerk. You need to understand this. But I have a tendency to want what others have. It's just my goddamn nature. I inherited this detestable trait from my "darling" father. Now, it is bad enough to be a Norman, but my father wanted to be a Norman. Eh! I shudder at the thought. By the way, my name's Will Scarlet.  
  
Now, you have to understand that I love my cousin Robin like a brother, I really do. And I want him to be happy. But I am a jealous creature. So, when the gorgeous Maid Marian, with whom we had both been friends since our memories were formed, fell in love with him instead of me, I was a tad miffed.  
  
Let's face the facts. I am taller and better looking than Robin. Yea, yea, I know the stories. But Robin and I created those for a purpose. Ever wonder why the sheriff continues to pick the wrong guy? Ever wonder why he never recognizes dear old Robin and me? Because those stories Marian spreads around, those tales of blonde romantics and lord's sons, are all lies.  
  
Robin has the darkest pits of black for eyes that I have ever seen. His hair is brown, and he's pretty damn plain. I have the dark hair and eyes as well, but, I'm not being conceited, I'm much better looking than Robin is. He admits it, I admit it, and we laugh about it all the time. The man is a goddamn reed.  
  
However, no one wants to hear about a skinny peasant gone outlaw with dark hair and no good looks, do they? So Marian and I spread the tale of a blond, blue-eyed, handsome as the devil, lord's son. (Robin practically strangled me) I am, (oh how mortifying) a blonde curled, addlepated, romantic. (Now I had a turn trying to strangle Robin) So, now, none recognize us. Pretty great plan on Marian's part, eh?  
  
Yet, Marian always tends to amaze us. She's no ordinary maid, and Robin is practically insane over her. He loves her, and it is obvious to everyone but Marian. Until now. She's been acting odd around him lately, and it's getting to me. My jealous bone is gnawing at my mind. As my father so memorably quoted, "You cannot escape your parentage, boy." I'll see him in Hell.  
  
Really, I will. I am a horrible person, I admit it. Poor Robin won't say anything when I but in on his conversations with her, and he doesn't have the confidence to explain outright that he adores her. I felt horrible wrenching Marian's heart out of his grasp, but what else could I do? Goddamn jealousy simply cannot be avoided.  
  
A conflict seemed inevitable. Robin would die of a broken heart (if the Lord was merciful) and I would end up feeling wretched every time Marian kissed me. Life is horrid. Tuck is up in arms every time I say this (though Robin thinks it is the most amusing thing I say) but the Lord has a very odd sense of humor. No idea why that's amusing, you understand.  
  
Life was going pivotally wrong, and we did not need any more problems. That was when Sara showed up.  
  
Sara stomped up to our camp without any of the sentries noticing, and Robin very nearly had a seizure on the spot. He has a problem with keeping us secret, and some muddy Irish woman standing with a scowl next to him was quite frightening. I had my sword out, and Robin's dagger was at her throat. "How - How did you find us?" he stuttered. She shrugged. "I walked 'till I heard noise, you bloody fool!" she cried angrily. Robin's face blanched, but he did not remove the dagger. "Why come you here?" he continued. The Irish woman's face blackened. "I came to escape the Norman tyranny and oppression. I came to find Robin Hood," she spat.  
  
Robin sighed, and lowered the dagger. In an instant, she grabbed his wrist, twisted the arm behind his back, and pressed his own dagger at his throat. Robin did not cry out, but he winced at the sudden pain. I stepped up with my sword, and the others raised their bows. But Sara was not intimidated. "I'll kill him 'fore you shoot me," she threatened, yanking Robin's arm up higher. He grunted, and I stepped forward again, stretching forward the sword.  
  
Sarah pressed the blade into Robin's throat, and blood trickled down his neck. I felt a hot rage fly through me as she held him in her tyrannical rasp like some wounded deer. I growled, and she snorted. "Think I care for your beast noises, outlaw?" she questioned. I was beginning not to like this devils' spawn of a woman.  
  
Much was getting nervous. "What do you want, witch?" he cried. She pressed the blade deeper into Robin's throat. "I want to see Robin Hood!" she informed him, pushing the blade even deeper. Robin spluttered blood, and she instinctively loosened her grip. He lunged for the second dagger in his boot with the free hand, but she kneed him the back, forcing Robin to bend backward. "Nay, I be smarter than that," she hissed. Robin brought his hand back up. I had forgotten to use my damned sword! How foolish! I muttered a silent prayer that one of the sentries would come in from behind and shoot her.  
  
"Good God, he is Robin Hood!" I cried. We outlaws are such geniuses not to think of it before. Sara froze where she was, staring at me in astonishment. That was all Robin needed. He grabbed her leg and flipped her over onto her back. She grabbed for the dagger, but Robin clenched her wrists and threw the dagger out of her hand. She kicked and hollered, but he ripped a strip of fabric off his sleeve and gagged her. She struggled under his grasp, yet Robin was relentless. I grabbed one of the long vines holding our community together and rammed it into Robin's hands. He tied her arm with it, and then released his prisoner. She bolted upright and glowered at him.  
  
"She shan't run," I promised. Robin nodded and wiped the blood of his neck. I walked over and clasped his chin. That was one nasty slice she gave him - likely to fester and puss. "It looks quite minor," I lied. Robin smiled and shrugged, rubbing it furiously.  
  
"Doesn't hurt 'tall," he lied.  
  
"That'll be well."  
  
"Aye. She's a vicious little snake, though."  
  
He turned to her angrily. "Hear that? You almost ripped my bloody head off, and I only asked what you wished!"  
  
Sara growled at him, and I laughed. "Now who makes the beast noises?" I rebuked. Robin burst into laughter. We were reconciled for now.  
  
~Robin took her gag off for the evening meal. I was certainly not going ot touch the evil woman. She bit his finger until it bled. He shrugged it off and shoved a piece of bread into her mouth. She ate it. "You should be thankful, miss," he commented while she chewed, "That is the last piece of bread we have left that is not stale, and stale bread is very good and all, but this is far better. Much's father gave us some just for you, and now you bite my poor finger. If I miss the target on the morrow, I shall blame you." Sarah bit him again.  
  
~The next day, Marian came to visit, and she decided that I should teach Sara to shoot, since the woman refused to leave. I did not wish to. I wanted to talk to Marian, but she demanded I do it, Robin offered to almost a thousand times, until Marian kicked him in the groin and demanded he shut his mouth. She was in a nasty mood that day, and I certainly do not blame her. Her father was being "authoritative" and demanded she stay inside with this beastly creature they dare refer to as a man. Our Marian has an incapacity towards controlling her vicious temper.  
  
Robin hit his knees, and Marian's temper immediately cooled. She knelt down beside him. "Oh, damn, Robin, I am such a vicious twit," she sighed. He looked up and grinned. "Aye, expect no argument there," he gasped. She laughed lightly, and he flared his nostrils. Tiny flickers of light danced along her eyes - the same flickers that I could never summon. Jealousy dug into my mind like a vine taking root. I desperately tried to uproot it, but my father managed ot have his last vengeance with me. I would have no part of his Norman wishes, but I could never escape my parentage. Yet I must.  
  
Sara stamped her foot. "I need to learn to shoot with this thing!" she whined, thrusting the bow towards the ground. Robin got to his feet in a shaky manner, and shrugged. "We shall get you a teacher presently," he replied. One of the things that made Robin a good leader for us was the everlasting patience he possessed that made me want to throttle him sometimes. Sara glowered at me, and I noticed how thick her ugly black eyebrows are. "Well? This churl looks well as any to teach me," she spat.  
  
Robin smiled patiently at her. "If Will wishes to, lady, he shall. But you are a moody little bug to deal with, and Will runs short on patience too oft," he replied.  
  
"His cup runneth out," Tuck commented. A tiny smile crept to Robin's lips, and Marian giggled. My face began to glow, and the familiar anger crept up. Robin sensed my discomfort, and gave Tuck a disapproving look. "Now, that was far from priestly of you, Tuck," Robin corrected. He met eyes with me and shrugged. "Would you teach our newest outlaw to shoot?" he asked nicely. Damn him. I could hardly say him nay when he asked in that nonchalant manner. "I suppose so," I replied. Robin smiled happily at me, and I turned from the sight of him and Marian to guide Sara out into the wood.  
  
"Ach!" Sara barked again as the arrow missed its mark. I rubbed my forehead, and wished that Robin had come. I was about to explode with hatred for this simpleton. "What is your problem?" I cried. She turned to me, eyes glowing. "My problem is my teacher," she replied. I sighed aloud and she glowered, drawing back the bow once again. "Do NOT fire!" I yelled, baffled by her idiocy. I had taught Marian, Robin, and Much to shoot when we were little, but this girl had no idea how to hold a bow.  
  
I stalked over to her and ripped the left hand off the bow. "Hand here," I commanded, forcibly slamming her hand against the bow. She cried out in pain and dropped it. I exploded. "Why the hell did you drop it, moron?" I screeched. Robin was always yelling at me for being too harsh with new outlaws, but I have no patience for imbeciles. She was sobbing, and clutching that wrist.  
  
I walked over and held it out to look at. An old pussy wound was festering and bleeding anew. My anger froze in my black heart, and I knelt down near her. "C'mere," I whispered, and looked closer at the wound. "How did this happen?" "I.I."  
  
Tears flew down her face and she clung to that wrist with a passion. I put my arms around her, and she buried into my chest. I was not used to this type of thing, and it was bit awkward to be hugging someone while they sobbed. And Sara was sobbing hard.  
  
I tried to remember exactly what my mother used to do when I cried, or Marian's father and his reactions, but I came up almost blank. Then I remembered what happened when my sister cried. Mum held her like I held Sara and kissed her forehead, rocking back and forth. I tried to imitate her, but I couldn't do it very well. It was more like torture than comfort.  
  
Sarah began to giggle madly, and I sighed. She was still crying. "I did try," I whined. She laughed harder, and rolled back her head merrily. I started to grin as well, and then outright laughter filled my mouth. It was quite comical. She was screeching with happiness, and I was, too, and the foolish situation did not seem so bad.  
  
Sara looked up at me and the tiniest iota of a tear was left. I reached out and pushed a thread of hair behind her slim ears, and she shuddered. "Thank you, Will," she muttered, "I was just. weak. Please don't tell Robin. He would - I would be told to leave Sherwood if he found out."  
  
Now it was my turn to laugh hysterically. The image of Robin forcing this one out of Sherwood was simply too amusing. Sara stared at me. "What?" "Robin would not force you to leave if you had no where else to go," I cried. She shook her head miserably. "But I have somewhere to go, you don't understand," she whispered.  
  
"Wherever could you go?"  
  
"I could go to the sheriff's castle and. and."  
  
"Hush! I know, dear, I know."  
  
Sara smiled. "He shall not make me go there - he simply could not be so demanding," she begged me, imploring the words of confirmation to leave my mouth. I nodded.  
  
Sarah recovered quickly and we continued with her lesson. This time I was kinder, and she was merrier. The arrow landed right prettily in the center of her target.  
  
"Well, Will? May I see the "master" of archery do so well?" she asked.  
  
"Aye. And you shall rue the day you begged for it, my mediocre friend."  
  
"Hah! I shall rue the day for the fact my teacher shall despise my bringing about his downfall."  
  
She was a cheeky devil, but I grew to be fond of her. She fired her arrow smack dab into the center. "Best me then, Will, if the ability is in such as you," she spat. I raised my bow confidently. I had shot this a million times.  
  
Twang! The arrow thrummed nicely where it had spilt Sara's in half. She grimaced in defeat, and I beamed in triumph.  
  
"I think you cheated."  
  
"Cheated? Me? How could you, Sara? My feelings are hurt!"  
  
"I'll hurt more than your feelings, you bloody imbecile!"  
  
"Eh! Just the sight of you hurts my eyes!"  
  
"Ha! If looks could hurt, I'd be blind, you fool!"  
  
I laughed. "Let's go back to Sherwood," she whispered. I nodded, not even bothering to inform her that we were still in that very forest. It was never Sherwood without the large rowdy group around you.  
  
~A fortnight later, Sara nudged me with her hip. "Eh, Will, would you tell Robin I hate him?" she muttered, and miserably plucked at a to-be shaft. She was being forced to make her own arrows. Robin laughed from where he stood, leaning on a tree. Marian looked to him, and sighed. "Robin, get off that leg of yours!" she yelled. He sighed. "Mari.."  
  
Marian grabbed his ear. "You little brat, you deserve to have that wound fester for your foolery."  
  
"I was protecting you when I got it, you ungrateful - Ouch!"  
  
"See? It hurts like hell when you walk on it, does it not/"  
  
"Mayhap. Leave off my ear."  
  
Marian let out an aggravated screech and Robin laughed. She released his ear, choosing a far more promising torture, slamming her foot into his injured one. "Damn!" he cried, easing out of her clutches. Marian laughed loudly, lifting her delicate foot upward. "You are a certified - " he began angrily. She rammed into his foot again. "Angel,' he finished through gritted teeth. She removed the foot again. "Now get off the foot!" she barked. But Robin never gave up the fight that easily. "Well, then you shall need to carry me, shan't you?" he quipped. She raised her foot again, and he swung up into a tree. I laughed. Robin had always been the monkey of our group, ever since we were very small. And now he was gone to the trees. None of us would find him, especially Marian. She growled. "Robin of Sherwood, you get down here this very instant or I shall rip the feathers off each and every arrow you spent all last night fletching!" she bellowed. I snickered. Robin was there in less than a trice. He sighed in defeat. Marian grinned at him. They trailed off, and Sara laughed with me at their foolish behavior.  
  
"Eh, Robin truly is a fool to love Marian," she muttered.  
  
"He ought to kiss her already."  
  
"Too shy, though, or so I think. "  
  
"You are correct, as usual."  
  
"Could there be another outcome?"  
  
I laughed and kissed her. It surprised me, and it surprised her. It was just compulsive. She was instantly more appealing than any other being I had met. My Sarah. Fear gripped me. Oh dear, she was going to hate me. I was going ot lose Sarah. I turned to look in those beautiful eyes, awaiting the slap or screech I knew was coming. Instead, she grinned.  
  
"That was nice. Do it again."  
  
I did.  
  
And every time I saw Marian in Robin's arms, or Robin in Marian's, I never cared. My Sara was worth a thousand of Marian, though I should never say that to Robin. (Who still has not told our Marian of his love, even as she walks home for the night.) But all Sara asked of me was to love her more than anyone else.  
  
I did. 


	2. The Neccessary, Formerly Forgotten, Disc...

This is all of the copyright junk that I forgot to put up. My browser is also being evil, so I cannot modify my stories to add this. Dash it all, Jack. Here goes nothing:  
  
No, Robin Hood is not mine (der), and neither are Will Scarlett and Maid Marian (duh). And neither, despite popular opinion, do they belong to Howard Pyle. They belong to that penniless minstrel from the Middle Ages who decided everyone's favorite thief should be sung about. (Some find this debatable)  
  
However, the twist on their personality traits does indeed belong to me. I have not heard of any author that did all three of them my way. If you know of any who have done something of the verily, verily same nature as my story to the outlaws with even one of the characters mentioned, please e- mail see. I would like to credit them here on the grand mumbo-jumbo copyright page. Also, Sara is my original character - that is clearly indisputable.  
  
Now that those annoying copyright problems are out of the way ---  
  
Thanks for reading this so that I can avoid any copyright law problems that might have ensued.  
  
Now go read my story instead! (LOL) 


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